When Worlds Collide
by sopranosflight
Summary: Quinn and Rachel go on a shopping trip for Glee costumes that turns out to be more like a date. Femslash.
1. Worlds Collide

Title: When Worlds Collide

Pairing: Quinn/Rachel

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers: 1.06, "Vitamin D"

Summary: Quinn and Rachel shop for a yellow dress together.

"I can't do your stupid number. I don't have a yellow dress, and there isn't one that will fit me."

Those were the words that had gotten her to this place, standing next to Rachel Berry in, embarrassingly, a thrift store, on a Saturday afternoon when normally she would be at the tanning bed or, better yet, on her couch watching Audrey Hepburn movies and recovering from a late night of cheering at the football game and going to a party with her fellow Cheerios.

"I can't wear that," she said, wrinkling her nose at the shirt that Rachel held up for her inspection. "Somebody else has owned it."

"Yeah, somebody else like Madonna. This is an incredible dress. You couldn't find it new in a store at the mall; this dress is vintage. And it has history," said Rachel loudly, drawing attention to them.

Quinn hunched over until the racks hid her face the way they did Rachel's.

"Look at it," continued Rachel, warming to her subject. "It has beading, which gives it texture, and sequins, which will catch the light and make you glow."

"I don't want to catch the light and glow," hissed Quinn, taking the dress from Rachel's hand and shoving it back onto the rack. "That is precisely what I don't want. To stand out. Do you know what it's like to know that everybody is judging you for putting on weight?"

Rachel frowned and looked at the ground briefly.

"But you're pregnant," she said. "People will understand. It's good for the baby for you to put on weight."

"People don't know that I'm pregnant," said Quinn. "Use your head."

"The others in glee do, and they don't judge you," protested Rachel, but she pulled another yellow dress off of the rack and handed it to Quinn dejectedly. "But you can wear this one, I guess. It accentuates the sternum and will take focus off of your stomach."

"Thank you," replied Quinn. When she looked at the tag, her heart sank a little. A size 4. That was what she got for being pregnant.

*/*/*

"You know," mused Rachel in the car on the way home, turning herself in her seat to face Quinn, who kept her eyes on the road, "In that yellow dress, you'll probably look a little bit like Marilyn Monroe."

Quinn's gaze slid to Rachel, then snapped back to the road as she slammed on the brakes at a red light.

"Really?" asked Quinn, in spite of herself.

"Oh, yes," said Rachel, nodding. "Now that you're pregnant, especially. Marilyn Monroe was a size 12. People don't realize it, but girls who have curves are very attractive. Like Mercedes, for instance. I've heard guys say that they'd want to bang her because of the meat on her bones."

"So you're saying that I'm going to look like Marilyn Monroe when I get _fat_?" asked Quinn, not quite managing to keep her voice from squeaking.

"Marilyn Monroe was not fat!" exclaimed Rachel, her eyes flashing. "She was beautiful. And even though she was beautiful, she was married to Arthur Miller, because she valued his mind more than his looks."

"Arthur who-"

"He's a playwright. Death of a Sales-"

"I've seen you look at my boyfriend," challenged Quinn, grasping for anything to say that would stop Rachel before she got warmed up to her playwright rant. It was one that Quinn had heard twice before, with Tennessee Williams ("a legendary example of homosexual creativity") and Stephen Schwartz ("technically a composer, he redefined musical blockbusters on Broadway"), and she knew that Rachel could go on for twenty minutes, at least, about some dead man that Quinn would never care about.

"Please," said Rachel, rolling her eyes and shutting her mouth.

"Is that all?" asked Quinn, surprised. It wasn't like Rachel to be quiet.

"Looking at boys means nothing."

"It's not the looking that I'm concerned with," decided Quinn, wondering what, exactly, the knot in her stomach when she saw them together meant. It was hard to articulate. "It's the touching. I see your grabby hands; I know what those hands do to you in your bed at night."

Rachel smirked, rather than blushing like Quinn expected, and tossed her hair over her shoulder.

"Please," she said again, and Quinn thought that if she rolled her eyes any harder, she'd fall over. "Boys are easy."

"What?" was all Quinn could ask.

"Boys are easy," repeated Rachel. "Anybody with two breasts and flirty eyes can turn their head. Or actually, just anybody with two breasts. It's girls who are harder."

"Girls?" asked Quinn, who was beginning to feel like a parrot.

Rachel smiled at her in a way that Quinn had never seen before, and reached over to touch her arm gently. Quinn pulled away before she realized what she was doing, even though Rachel's touch had made her arm tingle.

"See?" asked Rachel. "Girls are harder. They see your breasts, but they have them too. And they want to be won, but they have a hard time understanding that sometimes knights in armor are overrated."

It was hard for Quinn to swallow. She wanted Rachel to touch her again, for longer, and she understood what Rachel was saying. She had her knight in armor. She had two of them. But in that moment, all she wanted was to be touched by the pretty girl who was sitting next to her, and she couldn't for the life of her remember why she liked jocks so much.

"Do you want sushi?" she blurted suddenly, to keep from leaning over so that Rachel's hand, so carelessly placed on the edge of her seat, would touch her thigh.

"I love sushi!" exclaimed Rachel as Quinn made a sharp turn, wheels squealing, into the restaurant parking lot. "And apparently you do, too."

Quinn made a noncommittal noise and tried to pretend that food cravings were making her crazy. Rachel didn't seem fazed, though, and when they ordered at the counter, Rachel paid for both meals.

"You don't have-" began Quinn, but Rachel pressed her finger to Quinn's lips to stop her.

"My dads gave me a credit card for emergencies," she explained. "And since you'll have hospital bills to pay in eight months, I think this counts as an emergency."

Or a date, thought Quinn as she slid into the seat across from Rachel at the table. Rachel smiled at her, and got her napkins and a fork, and brought their food when their number was called, and Quinn felt fluttering in her stomach that, for once, didn't feel like morning sickness.

For once, Rachel didn't talk about glee or Broadway or musicals while they ate, and Quinn actually enjoyed (and followed) their conversation. Rachel didn't mention ambition once, which was uncharacteristic, and when Quinn admitted that her parents had given her a car when she became president of the Celibacy Club, Rachel had the grace not to laugh.

"What are you parents going to do when they find out?" asked Rachel, setting down her chopsticks and leaning forward.

Quinn ran her chopsticks through her rice and pursed her lips.

"They would probably make me have an abortion if they found out soon enough," admitted Quinn finally, "Even though we don't believe in murdering babies. But it's different when it's your own daughter."

"So they can't find out," said Rachel quietly. She had a look of determination in her eye, one that made Quinn reach across the table and grab Rachel's hand.

"Don't do anything, Berry," she threatened, squeezing Rachel's fingers until they turned white.

Rachel squeezed back and met Quinn's eyes.

"Well, somebody has to look after you," she replied, and Quinn pressed her lips together even harder to keep her eyes from tearing up.

"I'll drive you home," said Quinn, pulling her hand back from Rachel's and wiping her nose with her napkin. She pushed back her chair and reached for the trays, but Rachel beat her to it and threw their trash away before Quinn could take a step.

It turned out that Rachel was a better date than even Finn.

In the car, Rachel produced the Spring Awakening CD from her purse, and it was all Quinn could to do to keep from making a snide comment. She settled for, "Do you just keep that with you in case of emergencies?", which she considered to be fairly nice.

"This won the Tony for Best Musical of 2007," said Rachel matter-of-factly. "And has a cast of young performers, making it an especially remarkable feat."

Quinn couldn't keep the smile off of her face. The old Rachel, the one that she knew and hated, was back. But somehow, Rachel's quirks didn't irk her as much as they normally did. Maybe it was because Rachel was smiling at her around the words of the song, or maybe it was because Rachel Berry was in her car, singing to her, and had actually been kind of fun to hang out with all afternoon. Sure, Rachel was just a tenth grader, and an annoying glee club geek at that, but she was pretty, and she sang really well, and –

"That's my house, on the right," blurted Rachel, right before the final high note in the song.

Quinn jerked the wheel to the right, and the tires squealed, and Rachel laughed at her openly.

"Thanks for driving me home," she said, grabbing her bag and releasing her seat belt. "I had a really nice time today. I mean –"

Rachel broke off then and stared at Quinn, who had moved closer through out Rachel's speech. Rachel bit her lip nervously when she noticed where Quinn's eyes had landed.

"Wait," she said, and for once the words didn't come out of her mouth at warped speed. "Was this a … date?"

Quinn blinked then, and processed the confusion on Rachel's face, and sat back hurriedly.

"God no," she said, laughing loudly to cover her mortification. "You're a girl. We couldn't be on a date. I was just teasing, because of what you said earlier-"

Rachel shook her head and grabbed Quinn's hand.

"I have two dads, Quinn. I don't think that gender should stop people from doing anything that they want to do."

And then Rachel did the most remarkable thing. She leaned forward and placed her hand on Quinn's cheek, and then, without hesitation, she kissed her. Right there in Quinn's car, with the sun setting behind the houses and the neighbors raking leaves in their yard, Rachel pressed her lips to Quinn's. And Quinn couldn't think about what to do with her hands, or the people that were watching, because she was so overwhelmed by the feeling that this was something she had longed for without realizing it. So she kissed Rachel back.

Rachel pulled away and smiled at her.

"You're going to look so gorgeous in that dress," she said as she opened the door and climbed out of the car. And then she was gone, down the sidewalk and into the house, and Quinn couldn't seem to remember how to get the car to go backwards down the driveway.

She also couldn't remember why she had spent years using guys to try to find something that had apparently been waiting for her in the form of Rachel Berry's lips.

But she did know that, however weird it was, she wanted Rachel to kiss her again.


	2. Staying Stuck

When Rachel handed her a pink, engraved invitation during glee practice, Quinn smirked without thinking.

"A slumber party?" she asked scornfully.

"What, you mean you Fruit Loops never have slumber parties?" asked Mercedes.

"It's Cheerios," hissed Santana, handing Rachel back her invitation, "And we can't go. We have games on Friday nights."

"You can come late," offered Rachel, clasping the invitations to her chest and getting glitter all over her sweater in the process. "I just thought that a sleepover would give us a chance to bond more fully before sectionals. You know, a team that plays well together, works well together. I even heard that the Broadway cast of _9 to 5 the Musical_ sometimes went on trips toge-"

"I'll come," said Quinn, if only to shut Rachel up.

Rachel beamed at Quinn, a smile that made something in the pit of Quinn's stomach flip.

"So are we invited?" asked Puck, plucking the invitations out of Rachel's hands and scattering some of them across the floor in the process. "A sleepover with …manis/pedis and facials and karaoke? Sounds like fun."

"It will be fun," replied Rachel hotly, snatching the invitations back from Puck and smoothing them out, "But the only boy who is invited is Kurt."

"Really?" asked Kurt, surprised. "If it's because I would enjoy a manicure, that's true, but it means that you should invite Puck too, since I saw him at the spa at my last appointment."

The girls burst into laughter, and Puck's face turned a red that rivaled a tomato.

"Hey," he said, pointing his finger at Kurt and moving to include everyone in his glare, "Have you seen the women that go into those places? It's even better than cleaning pools. And they give hand massages."

"Sure, that's why you go," teased Finn, punching Puck's arm. Puck reached out to punch Finn back, in the face, but froze as Mr. Schue strode in and demanded that they settle down.

Rachel slid into a seat next to Quinn on the back row, and as Mr. Schuester gathered the guys to go over their part, she bumped her arm against Quinn's.

"I'm glad you're coming," she said quietly.

Quinn turned and glanced at Rachel's face. She was smiling, but not her triumphant or determined smile. And for once she wasn't a ball of frenzied energy. Quinn hadn't really spoken to her since their trip to the thrift store four days ago, but she had thought about her. Kissing a girl really hadn't been that different from kissing a boy, but it had been softer, and if Quinn was completely honest with herself, she wanted Rachel to kiss her again.

"Okay, Rachel, Quinn, come join the rest of the group so we can start this junk."

"Mr. Schue," said Rachel disapprovingly, shaking her head, but she grabbed Quinn's arm and dragged her down to the piano, too, causing Quinn's stomach to flutter again and her thoughts to take an entirely new direction.

*/*/*

Quinn was, embarrassingly, the first one at Rachel's house on the night of the sleepover. She held up the Spring Awakening CD as Rachel opened the door, and her "You left this in my car," was cut short when Rachel kissed her.

Quinn was so shocked that she didn't have time to worry about the neighbors seeing and being horrified.

Rachel pulled Quinn inside, and once again Quinn was stopped in her tracks, but this time by the way that what she assumed had previously been the Berry's living room was currently a temporary spa.

"Oh my god."

"Yeah," said Rachel shrugging modestly, "my dads went a little overboard. They're really excited for this sleepover. I haven't had one this big since my Liza Minnelli party back in sixth grade."

Quinn was choosing the perfect retort when the doorbell rang again, and Mercedes came in with Tina in tow, bringing speakers and her iPod and the promise that she was going to make this party rock.

"I can't wait for this karaoke," she said, plunking her speakers down on the coffee table. "In glee club I don't always get my time to shine, but wait until you see what I can do with some Beyonce."

"What about you?" asked Rachel, turning to Tina. "What are you going to wow us with?"

"I was th-thinking of a little Avril?" asked Tina uncertainly, handing Rachel her iPod.

"Girlfriend?" asked Rachel. When Tina nodded, Rachel beamed. "That song is so 2007, but I love it. I actually entertained the notion of going punk rocker after hearing it. But then I came back to my senses. Everybody goes through a rough stage in middle school, right?"

Quinn laughed out loud at the mental picture of Rachel in striped tights and a band t-shirt, but shut up when Rachel swung around to look at her.

"So what are you going to sing?" she asked.

Quinn felt a blush heat her cheeks, and she gestured to the CD that was still in Rachel's hand.

"Um, you know that song from _Spring Awakening_, Mama Who Bore Me? I mean, it kept coming on in my car, so I know the words. I'll probably just do that."

"I have the karaoke CD for the whole musical. But I was kind of hoping you'd sing some Aretha," teased Rachel.

Quinn laughed embarrassedly, drawing the attention of the other girls, and shook her head.

"No, no Aretha this time. I've decided to leave that for people who are a little bit more Motown than me."

Rachel winked at Quinn, and Mercedes laughed, and Quinn actually began to enjoy herself. Maybe the girls of glee club weren't as bad as she and the Cheerios always made them out to be. And after all, now that she wasn't a Cheerio, glee club was all that she had. She was no better than the people she used to scorn.

*/*/*

Kurt arrived with his home-concocted face mask recipe, and Rachel let Mercedes put her iPod on, and Rachel's dads came to same hello before disappearing to their bedroom for the rest of the night. Rachel was a surprisingly good hostess. Quinn had expected her to be uptight and anal about the way that everything was done, but she didn't even complain when Kanye started blasting out of the speakers.

"I think it's time for karaoke," said Kurt with a warning glare at the Mercedes. He got out his iPod and a pink flower, which he clipped in his hair before singing Popular from _Wicked_. He used Tina as his Elphaba, which made her blush, but she still volunteered to go next. And then Mercedes turned up the Missy Elliot, and Rachel sang Mariah, and after she was finished, they all spun around to look at Quinn.

"My turn?" asked Quinn, suddenly self-conscious. It had been a bad decision to sing one of Rachel's favorite songs, from one of Rachel's favorite musicals. Rachel would think she was an idiot if she screwed this one up.

But since when did Quinn care if Rachel thought that she was an idiot?

Rachel placed her hand on Quinn's back, urging her towards the make shift stage on top of the coffee table, and when Rachel winked from her spot on the sofa, Quinn felt her throat go dry.

And then the music came on.

Quinn missed the first phrase. She suddenly couldn't remember the words. She was choking up in front of some stupid glee kids, kids she hadn't cared about two months ago, and Mr. Schue wasn't even present, which made it even more ridiculous. And then Rachel bit down on her lip and frowned, and Quinn realized that she had to do it. So she opened her mouth and sang.

The words came to Quinn from the memory of the past week, when Rachel's CD had been the only thing playing in her car. This song especially had caught her attention, though she had to admit that she liked the whole CD. It seemed like a good show. Not that she'd ever tell Rachel that.

Finally, after an eternity, the song was over. Quinn liked singing, but she was no musical performer like Rachel. In fact, now that cheerleading was over for her, Quinn had no plans of performing any more. Well, except for in the background as Rachel stole the stage at sectionals. But that was different.

Quinn was afraid to look at Rachel's face. She heard the applause from everyone, but when she steeled herself to meet Rachel's gaze, she was surprised to see tears there.

"That was beautiful," said Rachel, her voice cracking, and Quinn felt tears well up in her eyes as well. Damn hormones.

"Maybe Quinn should take lead in a song," said Kurt, looking at her with newfound appreciation.

Quinn shook her head quickly. "No way. Pretty soon I'll be showing, and then they won't want me to be visible anymore, anyway. Not good publicity for the school."

"But you have the voice for it, Quinn," said Rachel, standing up and grasping Quinn's hand. "As much as it surprises me to say it, I think you could be leading lady material."

Quinn stared at Rachel, but didn't say anything. Rachel looked at her lips, and Quinn became self-conscious. She realized that she had been staring at Rachel's, too, which made her blush, and all of the sudden Rachel dropped her hand.

"Facials?" asked Rachel brightly, taking a step away from Quinn. "I even have little cucumber slices to put over our eyes."

Rachel went to get the cucumbers out of the fridge, and the girls sat around Kurt as he showed them how to properly apply the facial goop. When they were done, Rachel had them lay down on the pallets her fathers had set up, and one by one, she placed cucumber slices over their eyes.

Quinn was the last person that Rachel came to, and she tried to smile around the sticky cream on her face, but her lips wouldn't move. This made Rachel laugh, which made Kurt laugh even though he couldn't see anything, and under the cover of his laughter, Rachel bent down quickly and pressed a kiss to Quinn's lips.

Quinn was so surprised that she forgot how to breathe, and then Rachel placed the cucumbers over her eyes, plunging her into darkness, which gave her the sensation of being alone in her surprise.

"Later," whispered Rachel in her ear, so quietly that it seemed like a sigh, "I'm going to kiss you again."

Quinn shivered and felt Rachel lie down next to her, so closely that their arms were pressed together, and wondered how long this feeling of utter happiness could last.

And then Kurt and Mercedes started arguing about rap's place in the musical genre, and Tina's cell phone rang loudly with Katy Perry's voice, and Quinn sighed.

She would have to wait until later.

*/*/*

Brittany and Santana turned up while they all had cucumbers over their eyes, and Rachel left Quinn's side to let them in. It was Brittany's idea to play Two Truths and a Lie, and Rachel's to do a massage chain, and so they found themselves in a line on the floor in Rachel's living room, revealing their deepest secrets to one another. Maybe Rachel's virgin daiquiris that they had guzzled during karaoke hadn't been so virginal after all.

"I'm a virgin," announced Santana, provoking giggles, "I've kissed a celebrity, and I swallowed gum today in math class."

"Virgin," called out Tina, surprising everybody, and Santana shrugged.

"Yeah. You win some, you lose some."

"Okay," said Tina, kneading Mercedes' back with vengeance as she thought of what to say, "I've met Kelly Clarkson, I was born in China, and my favorite color is dark purple."

"Dark purple," guessed Kurt, but Mercedes shook her head.

"No way, it's got to be China. You were born in Ohio, T. You're not smart enough to be from China."

"You're right," admitted Tina. "But that's not w-what the football team says."

"The football team doesn't even know where China is," said Quinn. Rachel, who was behind Quinn, froze for a moment, but then Brittany started laughing, and the tension in the room dissipated.

"You go, Kurt," demanded Mercedes, and Kurt sighed audibly.

"I've had plastic surgery," he announced, "I've been slapped on the butt by the whole football team and…I've kissed a girl."

Rachel's fingers suddenly dug into Quinn's shoulders, and she gasped.

"What?" asked Kurt. "It's not that shocking."

"It's a lie," said Quinn quickly, to recover.

"Actually, I kissed a girl in first grade when a boy threw sand in her eye. It's plastic surgery that I've never had," corrected Kurt, his smirk evident in his voice.

"You and Kurt have something in common," Rachel whispered in Quinn's ear. Her lips brushed the outer shell of Quinn's ear, and then her neck, and Quinn closed her eyes and prayed that nobody would turn around.

"I-have to go to the bathroom," announced Quinn quickly, tearing herself from Rachel's grasp and standing up.

"I'll show you where it is," offered Rachel. She grabbed Quinn's wrist, pulling her out of the room, and if anybody thought that it was weird, they didn't comment.

"I can find the bath-" started Quinn, but she stopped when Rachel pulled her into the bathroom and shut the door behind them.

"I know that you don't really have to go to the bathroom," said Rachel confrontationally.

"How do you-" But Quinn had to stop again, because Rachel had grabbed her neck and was kissing her with a hunger that Quinn hadn't felt since the first month that she had dated Finn in ninth grade.

"I told you that I was going to kiss you again," breathed Rachel, her lips brushing against Quinn's as she spoke. Then she sucked on Quinn's bottom lip, causing Quinn to groan and Rachel to hold her tighter.

God, thought Quinn, but Rachel kept her from speaking aloud by sliding her tongue into Quinn's mouth. Quinn sucked on Rachel's tongue, and clung to Rachel's hips, and when Rachel nipped at Quinn's lips, Quinn slid her fingers under Rachel's sweater.

"Do you really want to -" began Quinn.

"You're the one with the boyfriend," said Rachel, her hands sliding down to Quinn's waist.

"Even my boyfriend hasn't touched my bare breasts," replied Quinn, shocking even herself.

"It isn't exactly _your_ breasts that are going to be bare," pointed out Rachel as Quinn's fingers traveled up her stomach.

"Oh god," said Quinn a second later when she discovered that Rachel wasn't wearing a bra. So that was what a nipple felt like.

"Told you," gloated Rachel.

Quinn pinched Rachel's nipple between her fingers, which shut Rachel right up.

"Who's smug now?" asked Quinn.

Rachel's eyes popped open, and she narrowed her eyes challengingly.

"Take off your blouse," she demanded.

"What?" asked Quinn. If she had thought that it would be romantic with a girl, she had been wrong.

"Take off your blouse," repeated Rachel.

Quinn bit her lip, then shrugged and unbuttoned the blouse. Rachel dropped her arms, and Quinn shrugged the blouse off of her shoulders and caught it before it dropped to the floor. At Rachel's raised eyebrow, she sighed and took off her bra, too.

"Now it_ is_ my bare breasts," she said.

"Yes," agreed Rachel, looking at them. "Can I-"

"I didn't just take my bra off so my nipples could have fresh air," said Quinn tersely.

But instead of touching Quinn's breasts, Rachel tugged Quinn closer and kissed her again, gently, with her tongue but not her teeth, and Quinn had to hold onto Rachel's waist to keep from falling backwards with dizziness.

One of Rachel's hands slid up Quinn's ribs until it covered her breast, and Rachel's lips slid lower, down Quinn's neck, across her collarbone, until Rachel bent her head down and took one of Quinn's breasts into her mouth.

All of the breath left Quinn's body in a rush. She looked down at the top of Rachel's head, her dark hair contrasting starkly to Quinn's skin, and then at Rachel's lips, closed around her nipple.

"Dear Jesus," whispered Quinn, because the only words in her head at that moment were his name and Rachel's.

Rachel glanced up at Quinn and smiled, then bit her nipple playfully before releasing the breast and moving to suckle the other.

Goosebumps broke out across Quinn's skin, and she tangled her fingers in Rachel's hair and prayed to stay upright. But Rachel's lips were leaving her without a sense of direction at all, and as Rachel abandoned Quinn's breast and began to trail her kisses down Quinn's stomach, dangerously close to the waistband of Quinn's jeans, Quinn slid to her knees and placed her hands on Rachel's cheeks.

"Kiss me," she pleaded, pressing her breasts to Rachel's sweater-covered ones. Rachel kissed her, mashing their lips together, and Quinn dropped her hands from Rachel's cheeks to the hem of her sweater as she tried to figure out how to get the sweater off of Rachel without breaking their kiss. The sweater had just cleared Rachel's ribs when the doorbell rang four times in rapid succession.

"What the hell?" asked Rachel, pulling her mouth away from Quinn's. Then loud male voices came from the direction of the front door, which opened and closed, and Rachel was pulling down her sweater and opening the bathroom door before Quinn even had a chance to register what was happening.

"I think the guys are crashing the party," hissed Rachel over her shoulder as she headed to the foyer. "You'd better put on a bra before you come out."

Quinn took her time putting her bra and blouse back on, and when she was done, she fixed her disheveled hair and dabbed water on her flushed cheeks. When she finally left the bathroom, it was to find the boys of glee club, including Artie, sprawled out across the living room.

"Are we too late for manicures?" asked Finn teasingly.

Puck held up his middle finger in Finn's direction, and Kurt held up his baggie of nail files.

"It's never too late for manicures," he declared. "You have no idea how many times I've dreamed of you asking me to give you one."

Finn blushed, and everyone laughed at him, and Quinn slid in the back of the crowd next to Rachel.

"So I guess we'll have to wait 'til everyone's asleep to continue," Quinn whispered in Rachel's ear.

Rachel turned to Quinn, her eyes bright with determination.

"Not unless I can figure out a plan for having us land on each other for Seven Minutes in Heaven first."

_End._


	3. Sextionals

Rachel and Quinn were roomed together for the sectionals trip entirely by accident.

Mr. Schue was the one to break it to them. He had put Brittany and Santana together because they were Cheerios, and Mercedes and Tina together because they were friends (and even he knew better than to put Mercedes in a room with a Cheerio overnight), and that had left the two of them.

"It's not like I could put you in a room with a boy," he told them, as if their having to room together was the worst thing in the world.

"I understand, Mr. Schue," said Rachel, wearing her martyr face. "I'm sure that Quinn and I will be able to behave civilly. It is for one night, after all. And my fathers have taught me how to tie somebody to a bed, in case anything goes really wrong."

Quinn had to duck her face and bite her lip to keep Mr. Schue from seeing the snort of laughter that threatened to erupt from her.

"Rachel, I-" began Mr. Schuester, rising from his seat.

"I think she's kidding," said Quinn softly, raising her head to look at Mr. Schue and avoiding Rachel entirely.

"I know," said Mr. Schuester, rubbing his face. "I know. You guys always kid. But one day – "

"The worst I would do is paint her toenails green," promised Rachel, winking at Quinn. "I need her in a good physical state…so that she can perform well and help us win."

"I don't think that you have to worry about that," countered Quinn, but her hand pressed protectively against her stomach as she said that. She didn't want Rachel to worry about it, but it was what she worried about every hour of every day. High school was hard enough without adding a swelling belly into the mix.

"All right, as long as you two are resigned, you can go," said Mr. Schue, gesturing them out of his office. "But if I hear about you fighting about it before the trip-"

"You won't hear anything, Mr. Schue," promised Rachel as she herded Quinn out of the door. As soon as they got out of earshot, she finished her statement, "Except for Quinn's groans through the walls."

"Rachel Berry!" exclaimed Quinn in surprise.

But the truth was that they both needed this trip. Seven Minutes in Heaven (a nudist Heaven, apparently) at Rachel's party hadn't been enough. Hiding under the bleachers on drizzly Sunday afternoons hadn't been enough. Nor had evenings on Rachel's porch, or behind trees in the park. If they were both honest, they were coming close to losing it in Quinn's backseat in the school parking lot. And that was the epitome of Ohio cliché, which was something neither of them wanted to live out.

*/*/*

Rachel and Quinn didn't sit next to each other on the bus to sectionals. The bus left after school on Friday, and Quinn took her spot next to Finn and left Rachel to sit next to Kurt in the front of the bus, directly behind the seats where Ms. Pillsbury and Mr. Schue were pretending that they were just friends. Kurt rolled his eyes every time Ms. Pillsbury laughed, and Rachel tried to figure out how to take a picture of their touching hands with her phone through the crack in the seats, and the bus stopped four times so that Brittany could go to the bathroom. That was even more times than they had to stop for Quinn.

When they finally made it to the hotel, Mr. Schue stopped them all in the hallway to tell them the rules for the third time. No sleeping in somebody else's room. No going between rooms after midnight. No drinking alcohol from the mini bar. Wake up call was at eight. They were all expected to be in the breakfast room, with their make up done, at eight thirty. And he would be taping their doors to make sure they didn't leave after midnight.

Santana rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically.

"Taping won't be necessary, Mr. Schue," volunteered Rachel, beaming at him. "I'm sure that everybody will be going to bed early in order to be properly rested for tomorrow. Right everyone? Now, if you'll just hand me my key card, Quinn and I will tuck ourselves in so that we get our victory sleep."

Rachel stepped forward and plucked the proffered key from Mr. Schue's hand, and Quinn dodged Finn's goodnight hug and followed Rachel into their room, keeping her face down so that nobody would see her flushed cheeks.

The door clicked shut behind Quinn, and Rachel turned around and unfurled a scrap of pearl colored silk dramatically.

"What is that?" asked Quinn, her mouth dropping open.

"My pajamas," said Rachel matter-of-factly.

"You wear those to bed?" clarified Quinn.

Rachel tossed her hair over her shoulder.

"A girl needs pretty things to boost her confidence," said Rachel. "A confident sleeper is a well-rested sleeper, and a well-rested sleeper is a winner when awake. My fathers understand that. That's why they spare no expense on my bedtime regime."

Quinn turned around and dropped her bag onto the luggage rack. She toed off her shoes and shrugged off her sweater, and only when her sweater had dropped to the floor did she realize that Rachel had been completely silent for thirty seconds.

"What?" she asked, turning around and finding Rachel staring at her.

"Where are your pajamas?" asked Rachel.

Quinn sighed and unzipped her bag.

"They aren't like yours," she warned.

"I should think not," said Rachel pertly. "Victoria's Secret doesn't have a maternity section."

Quinn's jaw dropped and her fists clenched, but when she turned around again, she forgot her anger immediately.

"Oh dear god," she breathed as Rachel smirked at her.

Beneath Rachel's smirk was the slight shimmer of pearl silk and not much else. Her nipples stood out against the material, barely concealed, and her thighs looked impossibly soft in the lamplight.

"Your turn," whispered Rachel, and Quinn sighed and held up her sweat pants.

"Joe Boxer?" asked Rachel incredulously.

"It's not my fault," snapped Quinn. "Negligees aren't exactly good at keeping pregnancy a secret from one's parents. And I'm the goddamn president of the celibacy club."

Rachel stepped forward and grabbed the hem of Quinn's shirt, pulling Quinn towards her until their hips touched.

"It's all right," she whispered. "It's not like you'll be wearing it for long, anyway."

Quinn giggled and wrapped her arms around Rachel's waist, and Rachel tilted her face up and pressed her lips to Quinn's. Quinn opened her mouth and prodded Rachel's lips with her tongue, because kissing her in the privacy of their own room felt like being able to breathe again after swimming underwater.

Then came the knocking at the door.

"Who is it?" called Rachel.

"Mercedes," came the reply. "Open up."

Rachel shrugged on her bathrobe and tied the sash tightly around her middle as Quinn opened the door.

"You'd better not have been serious about that going to bed b.s.," announced Mercedes, raising her eyebrow as she surveyed Rachel's bathrobe, "Because there's an episode of My Super Sweet Sixteen on, and you're going to come and watch it with us."

Quinn silently picked up the room key from the nightstand, and Rachel sighed dramatically and followed them to Mercedes and Tina's room.

"I love this episode!" exclaimed Quinn after a few minutes had passed. "It reminds me of my 16th birthday. Except that my parents weren't present for the party. And they didn't know that I was wearing all of those diamonds."

Mercedes snorted.

"Girl, I know what you mean. My parents chose to be out of the house for my sweet 16, and they still to this day do not know why the floor in the living room dips in the middle. But if they had seen all of those girls stepping in their Timberlands-"

"My 16th birthday was lame," said Tina sadly, shaking her head. "We had orange creamsicle cake at my grandma's nursing home and played Scrabble."

"That's awful!" exclaimed Quinn, more at the thought of the caloric count of the cake than at the idea of Scrabble in a nursing home.

"Yeah," replied Tina, shrugging. "But the next week I got to see Katy Perry live, so I guess it was all right."

Everybody turned their heads to look at Rachel, who blinked and asked, "What?"

"What was your party like?" asked Mercedes.

"Well, I haven't had it yet," said Rachel defensively, "But I'm sure it will be just as great as this girl's. My fathers are probably planning on taking me to New York. Maybe we'll even have dinner with some Broadway actors. My dads know quite a few intimately, you know. And what better way to spend a birthday than in the presence of greatness?"

"We could throw you a party too," offered Tina. "I think you could, m-maybe, celebrate with friends, too."

"We could host it at my house," offered Quinn, "As long as there was no alcohol. That way you wouldn't have hostessing duties."

"Really?" asked Rachel, blinking rapidly against the tears in her eyes. "You guys would do that for me?"

"I mean, you did give up the lead in a musical for glee club," said Mercedes, "Even if you did leave because Tina got a solo."

Rachel looked like she was ready to pick that battle, so Quinn sat up quickly and bumped Rachel's leg with her own.

"I think we should be getting back to our room. Rachel has this crazy idea that she has to get up at six, like usual, and if I'm going to be civil at that hour, I need to get to bed pretty soon."

Quinn waited for Rachel to tumble off of the bed, then followed Rachel next door to their room.

"Six a.m.?" asked Rachel. "Are you sure?"

"No way," said Quinn quickly as she took off her dress and donned Joe Boxer. "By the time we actually get to sleep tonight, there will be no way we're moving at 6 o'clock in the morning."

Rachel stepped behind Quinn and wrapped her arms around Quinn's waist.

"I like the way you think," she breathed into Quinn's ear, causing Quinn to twitch when it tickled. "But we do have to have energy for performing tomorrow."

Quinn turned around and smirked. "Oh, I know that performing is still most important, Miss Berry," she reassured her. "But I've also heard that certain nighttime activities make some people better able to compete the next day."

"Actually," began Rachel, "A lot of boxers and wrestlers abstain from sex for weeks before a competition, because it makes them more competiti-"

Quinn placed her hands on Rachel's cheeks and kissed her, effectively shutting her up. Rachel wrapped her arms around Quinn's neck and snuck her tongue into Quinn's mouth, and Quinn worked her thigh between Rachel's legs, causing Rachel to groan.

Suddenly there was a pounding on the door, and Rachel and Quinn jerked apart with a groan of frustration.

Quinn opened the door to find Finn and Puck leaning against the doorframe.

"Hey," said Finn, looking at Quinn with concern. "You look a little flushed."

"Choreography," lied Quinn smoothly. "Rachel is convinced that we need some more practice."

"Well forget practice," Puck cut in, poking his head into the room. "There's this bar next door –"

"There's even karaoke," Finn added, smiling at Rachel.

"-and I heard that they don't ID."

"No," said Rachel emphatically, stamping her foot. "We are not getting drunk before sectionals. And you're not going to either. It's almost midnight, anyway-"

"It's 11 o'clock!"

"- and we all need to be well-rested – and sober! – for tomorrow. So go to bed, Noah. If I hear that you were in that bar, I will personally pull every single hair out of that Mohawk on your head."

Puck raised his eyebrow challengingly, and Rachel took a step forward, and Quinn shut the door in the guys' face.

"Now that they're gone," began Quinn, walking slowly across the room to Rachel. She placed her arms around Rachel's waist, and Rachel spun around quickly, pushing Quinn back onto the bed and lying down next to her. Their legs dangled off the edges as Rachel slowly pushed Quinn's pajama shirt up until it was thrown against the headboard.

"I don't know why you even put that on," murmured Rachel as she pressed her lips to Quinn's nipple.

"I couldn't exactly let the boys see me topless," replied Quinn breathlessly as her hands tangled in Rachel's hair. "I am still the president of the celibacy club."

Rachel lifted her head and smiled at Quinn before moving to the other breast, and Quinn felt Rachel's thigh settle between her legs and squeezed her eyes shut, silently thanking God that they were finally alone in a place where they couldn't be caught.

That was when the tapping began.

It was at their window, which was on the second story, and it took them several moments of alarm to realize that gravel was being thrown at their window. Finally Rachel rolled off of the bed and flung the curtains back.

"It's the guys," she announced. Quinn fell back against the pillows and rolled her eyes. Of course it was. Who else but guys would think of being a cock block even when there was no cock?

And then Quinn's phone rang, and she crawled across the king-sized bed to reach the nightstand on the other side, where she had left her purse.

"It's Finn," she said. She flipped the phone open, listened for a second, then said, "No. We're going to bed. Goodnight," and shut the phone again.

That was when Rachel's phone started ringing, and after five minutes of alternate phone calls, including one from Artie, who had gotten in on the game, Rachel finally called Mr. Schue.

When the knock came at the door this time, Rachel and Quinn were prepared for it. Rachel's bathrobe was on correctly, and Quinn's nightshirt was back on, if inside out.

But instead of being just Mr. Schue, it was Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury.

"Figures," muttered Rachel as she opened the door.

"You girls had a problem?" asked Ms. Pillsbury as she peered into the room.

Rachel stood aside and pointed to the window.

"Come see for yourselves. It's 11:30, and Quinn and I are trying to get our victory sleep, but the guys won't leave us alone."

Mr. Schue picked his way carefully across the room, and when he accidentally stepped on Rachel's bra, which was tangled with the comforter on the floor, he blushed. He made Ms. Pillsbury take over, and when she looked out of the window at the guys with their gravel below, she actually laughed.

"I think they really want you to come outside," she said.

"If they're thinking of going to that bar next door-" began Mr. Schue, but Ms. Pillsbury touched his arm gently and shook her head.

"Will, technically they haven't done anything wrong yet. If they're bothering the girls, we'll just move the girls. And at midnight, if they aren't in their rooms, you can go get them."

"So what are we supposed to do until then?" asked Rachel. "Keep answering their calls and listening to their rocks against our window? Become more haggard every moment we're forced to remain awake?"

"You can stay in my room," offered Ms Pillsbury. "Mr. Schuester and I were watching a movie in his, anyway, and if you fall asleep in my room, I'll just stay in here tonight. And that way, Mr. Schue will be able to come in here to find out if the boys are out after midnight."

Rachel looked quickly at Mr. Schue, who nodded.

"We accept," she decided quickly, handing Ms. Pillsbury one of their room keys and accepting one in return. "And if the guys aren't in bed at midnight, I would consider using force. They are jeopardizing our chance to win with their tomfoolery."

With that, Rachel flung her hair over her shoulder and did her classic storming out walk through the door, leaving Quinn to roll her eyes and follow.

"It's kind of creepy to be in a teacher's room," said Quinn as she stepped into Ms. Pillsbury's room.

Rachel glanced from the open suitcase with the symmetrically placed clothes to the pajamas folded neatly at the foot of the bed and shivered.

"She could walk in here at any moment, you know," blurted Quinn as Rachel slowly circled the room. "And if we put the latch on the door, she'll know something's up. She's a little flaky, but she's not stupid."

"The bathroom," blurted Rachel abruptly.

"What?" asked Quinn.

"We'll use the bathroom. She has, like, ten pillows on this bed, and if we're in the bathroom, she won't bother us."

"But both of us in the bath-"

"You're feeling nauseous, and I'm holding your hair back."

A smile spread across Quinn's face.

"You're smart," she admitted, nodding slowly.

That was how they ended up on the pillow-covered floor of a bathroom in their guidance counselor's hotel room. They collapsed against the pillows and giggled, and their voices echoed off of the porcelain, which only made them giggle more.

"We'll have to be quiet," whispered Quinn. "And with your penchants for high C's, that may be hard for you."

Rachel grabbed for the hem of Quinn's shirt, but Quinn was quicker, and she had Rachel's arms tangled in the straps of her negligee before Rachel knew what was happening.

"It's my turn," whispered Quinn as she pushed Rachel backwards and straddled her hips.

"And what will you-"

"Shhh," hissed Quinn as she pulled Rachel's negligee free of her arms. That left only a pair of tiny black panties and inches and inches of skin.

Quinn let Rachel pull off her t-shirt, then braced her arms on either side of Rachel's torso and gently pressed their bodies together. She lowered her mouth to Rachel's breast, nibbling the nipple lightly, then soothing it with her tongue, and when Rachel began to move restlessly underneath Quinn, Quinn trailed her hand down Rachel's stomach until her fingers caught against the waistband of Rachel's panties.

"God, Quinn," breathed Rachel, and Quinn craned her neck to press a kiss to Rachel's mouth. She sucked on Rachel's lower lip, and with Rachel suitably distracted, slid her hand down into Rachel's panties, curving her fingers to cup Rachel.

Rachel froze.

"Are you…okay?" asked Quinn uncertainly.

"I've just never…" Rachel trailed off, and Quinn shifted her weight to the side.

"If you want, we can-"

Rachel grabbed Quinn's wrist and held it where it was.

"Don't you dare," she whispered harshly. "I was just going to say that I've never pictured us doing this on the bathroom floor. I always assumed it would be in your car, or somewhere equally classy. But here we are, now, and it's like-"

Quinn moved her thumb to cover Rachel's clit, and Rachel broke off mid-sentence.

"You can talk later," Quinn told her. "But I'm a little too busy to listen right now."

Rachel was silent then, even as Quinn's fingers parted her and entered her, though her breathing grew more audible. Quinn could tell that Rachel was consciously trying to stay quiet, which made it more of a challenge for Quinn to inspire a vocal reaction.

"Are you ready?" asked Quinn as she moved her fingers in and out of Rachel's body more quickly.

Rachel's hips rose to meet Quinn's hand, and she bit her lip to keep herself quiet, but finally she gasped, "Hold me."

Quinn wrapped her free arm around Rachel's shoulders and kissed her neck, and as Rachel began to pant, Quinn found herself whispering into Rachel's ear, "You're so beautiful, you feel so good, you're so close, so close," until Rachel tensed, and froze and Quinn's fingers cramped from being held so tightly.

Rachel fell back against the pillows, and although a smile played at the corner of her mouth, she didn't say anything.

"Are you all right?" asked Quinn, brushing the hair out of Rachel's face.

"If somebody had told me that it felt like that…" began Rachel. Then she looked at Quinn, and a look of concern fell across her face.

"What's wrong?"

Rachel reached up and touched Quinn's face softly.

"You. I feel fantastic, but you…"

Quinn was on her back, and Rachel was on top of her, kissing her stomach, pushing down Joe Boxer, before Quinn knew what to do.

"Quickly," begged Quinn, because her body was throbbing, aching for Rachel's touch.

Rachel smirked and pulled Quinn's panties down slowly. Then she pushed Quinn's legs apart, Quinn suddenly understood what she meant to do.

"Oh, Rachel, no, you can't-"

But Rachel's mouth was already on her, her tongue probing, and Quinn gave up on talking. She threw her head back, because the sight of Rachel Berry between her legs was too much for her to comprehend at that moment, and concentrated on remembering how to breathe when the sensations at the juncture of her thighs were taking all of her attention.

Rachel didn't say anything after Quinn had come and was lying limply on the pillow bed. She just reached on top of the toilet for the comforter she had brought in with them, spread it over Quinn's body, then slid under it and wrapped her arms around Quinn's waist.

"Goodnight," whispered Quinn, stretching her neck to press a kiss to the top of Rachel's head.

Rachel rested her head on Quinn's shoulder and tilted her face to kiss Quinn's chin.

"Goodnight," she replied.

They woke up hours later to a timid knocking.

"Girls? Are you okay?"

Rachel sat up quickly, then blushed and pulled the comforter around her shoulders to hide her nakedness.

"Ms. Pillsbury?" she asked, her voice raspy with sleep.

"Rachel? Is Quinn in there? Are you all right?"

Quinn opened her eyes and blinked slowly, surveying the clothes flung everywhere and feeling the way Rachel's legs tangled with hers underneath the covers.

"We'll be out in a second," called Rachel, hastily handing Quinn her shirt and pants and searching for her negligee. She had left her bathrobe in the bedroom, but hopefully Ms. Pillsbury wouldn't notice.

"What will we tell her?" asked Quinn desperately as she tried to put her legs in her pants.

"Just look sick and leave it up to me," promised Rachel reassuringly. She stacked some of the pillows so that they could open the door, then helped Quinn up and flung it open.

"Good morning," said Rachel, smiling at Ms. Pillsbury. "Quinn was feeling nauseous last night, and we didn't want to get vomit all over the hotel room, so I just made a pallet for her next to the toilet. I hope you didn't mind."

"How long were you in there?" asked Ms. Pillsbury, concerned.

Rachel tilted her head and narrowed her eyes.

"You mean you weren't in here last night?"

Ms. Pillsbury blushed, and Rachel grinned.

"Don't worry, Ms. Pillsbury. Quinn and I won't tell. Just let us move the pillows out, and we'll get out of your hair."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," insisted Ms. Pillsbury, but Quinn and Rachel were too busy laughing and gathering up the pillows to hear her.

"We won't have to worry about anything," said Rachel as she and Quinn returned to their room. "In fact, now that we have the dirt on Ms. Pillsbury and Mr. Schue, we can practically write our own hall passes."

"Wow," said Quinn, turning to face Rachel. "I'm really proud of how devious you've become."

Rachel beamed and leaned in to kiss Quinn.

"Just wait until we win," she murmured against Quinn's lips. "That's when I get really cocky."

_End. _


End file.
